


Ghosts and Monsters between Us

by j_gabrielle



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Angst, First Time, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, This got away from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 11:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1687025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bond sings to him in the peripheral of his senses, but he quiets it. This is something he must do.</p>
<p>He walks every part still liveable, parts untouched even before her. Athos breathes in the promises in the air of his house, daring his weary heart to dream again.</p>
<p>“How long will you let her rule your heart?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts and Monsters between Us

**Author's Note:**

> My headcanon for Alpha/Omega heats is that they don't go into this mindless rut like you read in most stories. They are, in some ways, driven by it. But not to the extent that it rules their every judgement. It's more of like this itch you need to scratch and it gets to everyone in different levels of tolerance and intolerance.
> 
> Do check out Dan Croll's 'From Nowhere'. It is the song that instantly reminds me of these two idiots. You can check it out [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=973ibay5504)

Something claws within him, ripping him apart from the inside out. Athos panted despite the heaviness in his gut, digging his fingers into the headboard, the bed creaking ominously under them. The monster inside purrs, coiling its' hold on his heart and senses. 

"I can't stop." He moans, bucking his hips into the tight heat of d'Artagnan's arse. "I'm so sorry. I'm _so_ sorry." His head hung low, dark locks brushing against sweat slicked brow of the Omega beneath him. 

d'Artagnan rakes his blunt nails down Athos' back in response, locking his ankles at the small of his back. "If you stop now, I swear to God above I will kill you." He hisses, dark eyes wild with lust. "I've told you. I want this. Wanted you from the moment I stopped blaming you for my father's murder." Meeting Athos thrust for thrust, he gasps, reaching for a kiss. "So please Athos... Do not make me beg. Not for this." He murmurs desperately between kittenish licks and the hungry meeting of their lips.

_Not when I know you want it too_

Swallowing back the bile rising at the back of his throat, Athos pulls back pulling d'Artagnan with him by their joined bodies as he sat back onto the nest of sex stained sheets. Cradling d'Artagnan in his arms, he slowly eased the body above his back into a rhythm, gasping when the flutter of muscles embracing his intrusion tighten and squeeze around his swollen knot.

Athos guides d’Artagnan by his arse cheeks, kneading, thrusting shallowly with his combat worn hands. No words at this point, Athos lets himself plunge into the sensations that he has denied himself. He rolls his hips experimentally, bouncing d'Artagnan in his lap repeatedly as he begins to fall over the precipice of the sweetest death.

"Athos!" d'Artagnan cries, pressing his groin against Athos’ lower abdomen. He stills, throwing his head back, he fists his hands, bracing himself as he howls. Athos watches in awe as the boy tenses, shaking and shuddering through his third orgasm since the night began. 

He knows that this is far from the end. This was probably d’Artagnan’s first heat since he presented as an Omega. For a moment, an overwhelming sense of sadness comes over him. d’Artagnan should have had the chance to experience such an event with someone that was… not him.

Athos feels the digging of bony knees into his side. Sighing into the side of the Omega’s hair, he breathes in their intermingled scent. Wanting nothing else but for this moment to last forever.

Soon, the body in his arms wriggles impatiently. Huffing, he pushes their still joined bodies back onto the bed, minding the wet spots. "How much longer must we couple?" d'Artagnan groans miserably, falling back against the pillows obediently. Athos slots their bodies together where he is embracing him from behind, hand pressed against the centre of his chest. "I'm so sore..."

Athos closes his eyes, breathing heavily through the pain of the monster growling in him. Tilting his head to press butterfly kisses against d'Artagnan's bare shoulder, he coos. "Just a little while longer. I promise."

* * *

 

The feeling of their souls intertwined is something he had once longed for. Once, when he was a better man, a kinder man, an honourable Alpha. When happiness came in the form of a beautiful, green eyed Beta that he dreamt of building a family with, of children and true love.

Now, the contentment and comfort of a bond that should have been his is like bitter ash in his mouth.

d'Artagnan sleeps the sleep of the dead, evidence of their coupling are like a constellation road map of bruises, marks and bites. A part of Athos yearns to reach out, to touch, to hold and protect. 

Athos slips out of bed quickly, gathering his clothes and gear. Silently, he thanks the unnamed patron that had called for the Bonacieux's services to the countryside. Last night was, and always will be, treasured. Especially when d'Artagnan realises the mistake he made in choosing him. Athos pushes away the emotions running rampant in him.

He dresses quickly, numbly. The cold grey light of dawn paints the room in shadows, throwing a long accusing hand over d'Artagnan's sleeping form. 

Athos feels the bond calling to him, reaching for him to stay, to be brave. He slides his feet into his boots. He makes for the door, movements desperate for release from this room. He has one hand on the doorknob when the soft rustling of a sheet slipping to the floor stops him from taking another step.

The bond calls to him. Athos turns. The world stops, focus falling on the slender form on the bed, whimpering in the chill of the room. His legs move towards d'Artagnan and the siren call of the bond before he is fully aware of it. Athos reaches for the sheet, pulling it up and over d'Artagnan. His fingers brush against the skin of the Omega's arm, sparking to life a fire within him he long thought dead.

Athos recoils, jerking away as if burnt. The air in his lungs leave in a rush, his head spinning, muddled and confused. The bond lingers in the back of his senses, seeking to soothe him. He shakes his head, falling back on his training. Locking away every emotion and sense, he turns and flees.

Everything becomes secondary to this.

* * *

 

He rides like he has the devil himself nipping at his heels. He pushes himself, riding out of Paris before the sun has truly risen. The change of scenery barely registers until he finds himself dismounting in the shell of his family home.

Athos has not been back here since the fire. Gently, as if aware of the ghosts that still haunt these walls, he picks his way through the half burnt rooms.

Most of the portraits are beyond salvageable, half the rooms have scorched marks that streak the ceilings. Parts of the chateau still standing seemed colder to him than the last time he set foot here.

Athos lingers, still seeing the memories, the shattered hopes and broken faith that clings to every crevice and dark corner. He runs his hands against the blackened doors, feeling a part of him mourn the futures that could have been.

The bond sings to him in the peripheral of his senses, but he quiets it. This is something he must do.

He walks every part still liveable, parts untouched even before her. Athos breathes in the promises in the air of his house, daring his weary heart to dream again.

“How long will you let her rule your heart?”

Athos starts, heart pounding as he turns. d’Artagnan is pale, shaking as he half leans against a charred door frame. Scenting the air, Athos is hyperaware that the heat has yet to truly pass for him. Fury suddenly rises in him at the thought that Alphas from here to Paris must’ve scented him as he rode to this place.

“You’re still in heat. What are you even doing here?” He says instead, forcing himself to be still. “Go back to Paris.”

The words ignite a burn of anger in d’Artagnan’s eyes. He makes no move towards Athos, but he wraps his arms around his midriff, curling into himself. “I’m not going anywhere. I am exactly where I need to be.” He snaps, the words leaving him in a rush. Athos catches the wince before d’Artagnan can school his features.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, reaching for him. The Omega jolts, eyes widening at his approach.

"Athos, why did you leave?" d'Artagnan sobs. 

"I couldn't... You deserved someone better than me." He laughs bitterly. "You deserved the love and care of an Alpha with less..." He throws his hands around him, indicating the room. "I'm broken, d'Artagnan. I'm still learning to let go of my ghosts."

Licking his lips, d’Artagnan shakes his head. Worried, Athos lets himself into the whispers of their bond. “You’re in pain.” He reaches for him once more, taking his hand. The moment their skins touch instantly brings back the torrents of loveAdoreadmireprotect ** _mine_** yourshappinessours _sadness_ want **Need** safety ** _REJECTION_** —

Athos flinches. d’Artagnan shivers in his arms even though the midday sun is upon them. “Why would you think that I would—that you were not wanted?” He croaks heavily. Tightening his embrace, Athos tries to convey the things he could yet say with the press of his body. Burying his face into the crook of d’Artagnan’s neck, he lets himself feel.

"I could-You were the only Alpha I wanted. Even when I knew what a surly, drink loving _arse_ you could be, you were still the one I wanted, the one I needed. Even before this stupid heat, I was half-mad in love with you, you ignorant fool!" d'Artagnan punches Athos in the shoulder. Hard.

With the air in his lungs escaping swiftly, he tastes the bubbling delight warming him from inside out. Athos held on, fearing that if he spoke now, it would only serve to spoil the moment.

“You weren’t there when I woke. I tried to reach for you with the bond, but you…” d’Artagnan says, his voice hushed with fear and despair. “How long Athos? How long will you let her keep you from finding happiness?”

_How many times must she come between us?_

Athos wraps himself around d’Artagnan, breathing in their scent on his skin. “She is the ghost I will carry no longer.” He promises ardently, angling his head to meet d’Artagnan in a kiss. “She is my past. But that is all.”

“Give me your word.” d’Artagnan demands, pulling away, fisting his hands in the front of Athos’ travelling coat. Russet eyes capture his determinedly, wholly. 

Athos sighs in the ridiculous bliss of it all, smiling like a fool and resting their brows together as he whispers. “You have my word as your Alpha.”

Silently, the Omega takes his hand, pressing it against the collar of his shirt. “You promised.” He says nervously. Warm brown eyes watch as realisation dawns in cerulean eyes, smiling and nodding enthusiastically when the question is asked in a soundless gasp.

The Alpha pulls d’Artagnan close, rejoicing in the laughter and tears that follow as he scents his mate. Their mixed scents enveloping his senses; the lemony, summer fresh scent of his Omega, his own earthy, ozone sharp musk, followed by a new, stranger scent.

“Mine.” Athos repeats in between kisses, laughter and joyful tears. “My brave, _wonderful_ Omega. Mine.” He smiles, rejoicing.

 d’Artagnan grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Yours.” He sighs and Athos feels his happiness and contentment roll over him in ebbs and flows. “ _Ours_.” He laughs breathlessly when Athos picks him up, carrying him out of the shell of his house of brokenness. The monster in his chest is quiet for once.

“Ours.” He whispers as he walks into the sunlight.

 

[end.]


End file.
